


palaver

by leedeeloo



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 23:59:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12221601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leedeeloo/pseuds/leedeeloo
Summary: Meouch wants to have a chat with Sung, but he's kind of in the middle of something.





	palaver

For once, for once, Meouch sought out Sung to talk to him. His bedroom door cracked open, as closed as he’d let it be, light pooling out around him from the desk, the overhead light out like he forgot to turn it on. It was eerily quiet, Sung folded up in his chair, focused on something.

Meouch creeped in, slowly, not sure if or when he should say something. Sung was barely moving, so whatever he was working on was probably delicate, something minute and tiny.

He hadn’t figured out what he wanted to do until he was right behind Sung, so he just put his hands on the top of the chair, peering over Sung’s shoulder. He couldn’t quite see past his head, his ears, but he could see it was some kind of circuit board. There was a strap along the back of Sung’s head, he was wearing something over his face.

 _Sit down._ Meouch heard it in his head. He still wasn’t used to it, figured he never would be. He was so surprised by it that he didn’t move.

_Really. I can’t concentrate with you hovering over me._

A little embarrassed now, Meouch stepped back, and carefully sat on the edge of Sung’s bed, the only place for him to sit. It took less than a minute for him to decide to get comfy, and he stretched out on his side, wrangling the pillow out of its perfectly made place to hug, and hold his head up.

He could see what Sung had on a lot better like this. Some kind of magnifying goggles, it looked like part of a steampunk costume piece, all mechanical and, frankly, not Sung’s taste at all. Something he bought instead of made, for once. In one hand he had a pair of tweezers and the other had a long thin screwdriver, surely coming to a fine point.

He’d stop, readjust the goggles, the lens moving in and out as he did, presumably hold something still with the tweezers and then twist the screwdriver. He wouldn’t do anything for a few moments, obviously checking something, some guide, but Meouch couldn’t figure out what; he wasn’t moving, taking off the goggles to look at something, none of that.

Meouch’s eyelids were getting heavy, so he decided to try talking to keep himself awake.

“Are there tiny instructions on that?”

Sung smiled, just a little.

_Yes, actually._

Meouch hummed, didn’t expect to be right. He felt a yawn coming on, thought about sitting up. Instead, he shut his eyes.

_Sorry, I’m almost done with this._

“Uh-huh,” Meouch murmured, squeezing the pillow and nuzzling his face into it. It was warm and dark in Sung’s room, but he wasn’t gonna fall asleep. His legs curled up, knees pulling to his chest and feet rubbing together. Even on top of all the covers, he was so comfy, and if he thought about it, all he could hear was the hum of the desk lamp, gears creaking as Sung adjusted his goggles. Maybe Sung was holding his breath, Meouch wondered, unsure if he was saying it outloud or thinking it in a way Sung could hear, maybe whatever he was working on was so delicate that the air from his breath would mess it up.

A long, slow exhale. His mouth fell open, just a bit, as his face relaxed.

Sung sat up, slid the goggles up and off his face. Smiled fondly at Meouch, now sound asleep.

* * *

 

Meouch sat up as he woke, bleary eyed, still clutching the pillow. It took him a second to remember that he wasn’t in his own bed, and he looked beside himself, expecting to see Sung sleeping next to him.

The bed and the room were empty.

The lamp was still on, whatever Sung was working on was sitting on the desk.

Meouch started to stand just as the door opened; Sung, carrying two mugs of something.

“How was your nap?”

“Fine? How long was I asleep for?” He took one of the mugs as Sung offered it; hot chocolate, a fat marshmallow floating in it. Sung set his mug on his desk, precariously close to the edge, before sitting down.

He shrugged. “Like, 20 minutes, tops.”

Meouch nodded, took a sip. He knew it was just instant mix, but somehow it always tasted better when someone else made it for him.

They were quiet for about 30 seconds, Sung staring down the marshmallow in his mug as he resisted the urge to poke at it. It was never as satisfying as he hoped.

“So… what’s up?” Sung asked.

Right! The whole reason he came over here! Meouch shifted, sitting up a little.

Then slumped back down.

“I don’t… remember what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Sung snorted, lifted the mug to his lips, coyly hiding his grin behind it. “Have I ever told you how glad I am that you’re my co-pilot?” Meouch glowered at him, and he continued. “You’re so competent and just so good at just, gosh, at remembering things you need to-”

Meouch whipped him in the leg with his pillow, and Sung yelped in response, jerking the mug away.

“Don’t be a dick.” It was very hard to sound serious when Sung kept giggling. Very hard to keep from giggling himself. Meouch grinned, but only a little. “I’ll remember, and it’ll be so important, I swear.”

“Okay, okay,” Sung appeased. “I believe you. You had something _super_ important to tell me, and didn’t just want to talk. Gotcha.”

Meouch worked himself back into a comfortable position; legs criss-crossed, pillow on top of them, learning his elbows on that, mug clutched in both his hands. He just let the quiet happen, and Sung didn’t push anything, fiddling with things on his desk.

Both were content to sit with their best friend and sip hot chocolate.


End file.
